In my three months of the last trip to India I had with me a catheter and everything you need to put it in: vaseline, cotton, a half-liter bottle of saline, sterile gloves and a syringe to inflate the balloon that holds him back into the bladder.

In November my urologist told me that, for the low flow, there could be risks of a pee ' block and, finding myself in a desert or trekking or in Andamans Islands in those conditions, I couldn' smile much...but I couldn't I didn't want to cancel the trip, as we spoke for some time with our friends and at my no longer ' green age ' postpone something can always mean not to make it ever more '. Not to mention that I love too much Mukti to make her renouncing to beautiful things ... so I searched Youtube and seen how to put myself the catheter in. ...

All our trip went well, as I told, that extra pound than was always with me, although sometimes I would have gladly done without, as in the three thousand of the Himalayas ...

Now you must know that for my upcoming 70th birthday, December 31, I have already invited my friends to a party at Jaisalmer ... which of course will be a new adventure in the Thar desert ... talking about it with my surgeon, in order to have any hope of cameling, the prostate operation had to be at least three months before, so here we are ... I just had it.

...

Last Tuesday I got the surgery, what I'm not swallowing is that is one thing for old people ... but it went quite well, it seems ... and while I say it I touch my balls.

I said that everything went well, in the sense that this is what the surgeon told me soon after the operation, but at the moment that he said, seeing how I felt, I just thought about the famous saying: "the operation is success ... the sick had died ...".

If you know someone who needs to do the prostate, discouraged the epidural injection, into which only numbs the lower part. Much better the total, having greeted everyone in the case of no return ...

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With the epidural for me it was really surreal, an hallucinatory experience in the truest sense of the word, I was in shock from Tuesday until Thursday.

At the pre-hospitalization one week before, they had told me that I could speak with the anesthesiologist at the time of the operation to choose the way ... really ' arrived in the operating room completely drained of energy, fasting, melted by a wait on a chair from 7 to 12 and a half, with the last half-hour another blow ... after giving me a bed, they made me wear, once denuded, a green open back gown, green plastic bags for the feet and on the head a ridiculous green wrinkled cap that makes you look like a granny that goes to shower and do not want to get wet her hair ... not to say about the shock to be pushed in the cot through the corridors, by a nurse who believed to be Schumacher.. hard in those conditions look someone in the eye and ask for anything serious ...

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I never did operate if I hadn't felt complete trust in Dr. P, a really nice and trustfull person whose only problem I guess is to look like a lot of D'Alema (important politician of the italian left).

The operation is lasting about an hour. In the room there was the anesthesiologist, who I will call 'Sweeteyes', a first Assistant nurses, I shall call 'Bramieri', (a famous late Italian comedian), another ...'Bulldog' and a nurse, which I will call 'Whatiamdoinghere' ... already while I was arriving in with my crib they where talking about trade union issues, shifts, holidays ... my surgeon, Dr. P, with his mild gaze seemed almost embarrassed for the atmosphere ... in an instant they put me sitting and while Bramieri held me firmly from in front, from behind Sweeteyes made me the injection between the lumbar vertebrae ... I felt the needle go in and so far so good ... but after a few seconds a shock ' ascent to the brain as she had touched something she wasn't supposed to ... to my lament with instinct to move, Bramieri locked me with an order ... I felt the needle to change direction, the fluid go in a few seconds ... and it was done ... they put me with legs on trestles as a pregnant woman and several wires attached to the body, the suckers of the electrocardiogram, arms blocked, a needle with wire in the middle finger of the left hand ... while Whatiamdoinghere received a call on the phone ... shift problems, very interesting for me to follow in those conditions...

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Meanwhile Dr. P had disappeared from view, crouched between my legs to penetrate me better ... for truth ' I saw then that it was sitting on a low stool .... and the operation is begun ... while the chatter on the holidays were going ahead...

At one point I heard the surgeon called for a special scalpel, disturbing the debate turns ... they had problem to find it poking around in the drawers ... I felt to go looking myself ... felt a pressure on the pubic bone, legs and pelvis numb, but with strange vibrations and sometimes aches in the bowels. But the main feeling was close to panic ... find myself in some sort of warehouse full of shelves with various tools and an old television set switched off (' after I will understand why ...), surrounded by people to survive the job they do, avoid watching you in the face and speaking about their problems ... that slap you in no time, mobilize, tie up to tear to pieces, talk about everything and when an instrument sounds the alarm, clearly irritated ... in short, a unique experience, I hope, in my life ...

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Of course as soon as Sweeteyes was due to get out of the room, definitely something very important, indeed an alarm began to sound from a tool behind me ... after a few minutes the others have noticed ... I even though it felt, but I was more concerned just about the sensations of the body ... the funk to hear pain makes wake-up and calls attention to yourself ...Bulldog came to the side to look at the instrument that was screaming ... pretty agitated asked me how I felt ... I replied something like "da Dio" (an ironic Italian expression, literally like God)... and he concluded that there was something wrong in the instrument, not that I felt more close to God because of a next transition to a better life...

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Dr. P continued unabashed out of sight ... and I did my best to stay as a detached observer ... I watched my breath, I watched the fright, had felt death and cold legs, wanting to move the dock to an itch in the lumbar area ... then began the nose ... desperate, but glad for an opportunity of dialogue ... I said of the itching to Sweeteyes, returned by my side, that immediately, with smiling eyes, her mouth couldn't see it through the mask ... with a wad rubbed me ... the fourth time in half an hour I didn't dare to ask her...I didn't want that smiling eyes became bored and I asked permission to move an arm, so I could provide alone.

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Actually the anesthesiologist is the one from whom I heard a real human support, since Dr. P seemed busy and I didn't want to disturb him in any way...Sweeteyes is a ricciolona (nice girl with curly hair) and pacioccona (nice beat fat), with two dark eyes ... she was on my left flank and kept looking at the tools and to my face figuring out my reactions if everything was fine ... she had a kind voice and as I felt a pressure on the pubis and strange internal movements, but I had no ' a true understanding of what was happening ... I asked her about ...she told me that the surgeon had cut the pube to put a drainage tube for the blood ... with look worried I asked her then from where I had been scraping the prostate ... I began to doubt that I lost my virginity ' so ' protected for a long time ... and she explained me that a micro scalpels had entered from the orifice of the penis through a catheter ... miracles of science.

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I felt very reassured ... sooner or later would be even over ... few days later Dr. P also told me that through my penis (thanks mom for the size ...) together with the catheter passed a micro telecamera and a fiber optic ... the micro camera he didn't use it because he's from a previous school (that's why the TV was off...) and preferred to watch from a lens/viewer that had before his eyes.

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Another tragicomic moment I remember is when, after the alarm siren, Bramieri came alongside and tried to pull me up, because probably my face showed signs of subsiding, he asked me where I was from, which seemed to him not of these area... as I told him that I was raised in Milan, he began to sing in a funny way a Lombard folk song ... I came to laugh and the muscles of my belly started moving ... I had to implore him to stop making me laugh, because I started to feel more what was happening inside the pelvis ...

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Until Thursday I felt like a truck was passing over me ... with a tube coming out from above the pubis and a catheter from the penis, blood that filled pockets ... something not nice nor to see or to feel ... with the memory of my beloved Nonny who, paralyzed in bed in our home for seven years, following a stroke ... if someone asked her how she was doing, always responded: 'Sun a postu, ghe stu ben, ghe stu megiu che a Staggen (Dialect from Genoa that means: 'I am ok, I feel good , I feel better that being in Staglieno'- the cemetery of Genoa...).

Hej shunjam, I guess, it is ok with your pee now. ! Great to read about the anesthesi. i rememberd the birth of my first daughter, When the doktors first forced the birth by not natural medicine , just for to give me epidural When the pain becomes too much.....
i felt like a puppet in a cage, not able to move myself but full conciousness....and many people arround me they just "handled" My body and the new live which was on her Way to be born , meanwhile I just was capable to watch ......
(À voice inside me was only crying: no.,no.,no....keep your hands off......but nobody was intrestet in me ore the baby)
Now my daughter is 33 ....

Postato Saturday, 18 January 2014 alle 07:53 da Nadam

Yes Nadam, we can really become the watchers in such situations...love.